


Some Dates and Black Feathered Wings

by coocoocatchoo, dirtypawshistorie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Angel Wings, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Guardian Angel Kozume Kenma, Guardian Angels, Hitman Kuroo Tetsurou, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Protective Kozume Kenma, Some Plot, but at the end of the fic only and it's not very graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22814371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coocoocatchoo/pseuds/coocoocatchoo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtypawshistorie/pseuds/dirtypawshistorie
Summary: Although, funnily enough, Kuroo doesn't remember how he survived that explosion, or how the men that were one moment ago shooting bullets from every angle were now lifeless on the paved ground. Or how after passing out again he woke up in a bathtub in his hotel room.What was pretty much engraved into his mind, was the sight of that beautiful being, whose wings were so dark against the flames behind him, black straight locks adorning his stoic face, and with delicate hands reaching out for him.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 11
Kudos: 65





	1. |Rome, Italy. November 5th, 1984

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!  
> When I was a teenager the first book my parents got me was this intricate story of a Fallen Guardian Angel. The memory came back to me recently, and the idea of Kenma being Kuroo's Guardian Angel was too fun to not try.

Kuroo still remembers the sensation in his body when he saw him for the first time.

It was in his early days, after finishing a big job in Italy. He completed the job on time, smoothly, and he even felt in better form than usual, shooting the Pope from a high sky building. 

But later that night he found himself in deep shit. Some coward had sold him and his team out, and everything went downhill pretty fast, causing him to have to deal with a lot of armed people hunting for his head in the night streets of Roma. With just scarce backup, a small supply of grenades in his arsenal, and his gun, he made a break for it.

Kuroo still remembers how he felt like shit. The smell of smoke, rain, and gunpowder lingering in the air and the view of his feet flooded from the red sea that his comrades left behind. His leg withstood two wounds shots, his head suffering a pretty horrendous migraine, and his gun out of ammo. 

He had already resigned, accepting that that night was his end line. Kuroo was just barely protecting himself behind the crashed car and shooting his last bullets against those motherfuckers.

When a grenade was thrown at him, he knew it was over. He tried to pick it up to direct its path elsewhere, but it was too far. Kuroo knew it was too late.

Although, funnily enough, Kuroo doesn't remember how he survived that explosion, or how the men that were one moment ago shooting bullets from every angle were now lifeless on the paved ground. 

Or how after passing out again he woke up in a bathtub in his hotel room.

What was pretty much engraved into his mind, was the sight of that beautiful being, whose wings were so dark against the flames behind him, black straight locks adorning his stoic face, and with delicate hands reaching out for him. He still feels the gentle caress the beautiful being gave to him, and how his features were so refined and chilling.

His presence gave Kuroo the most comfortable feeling he had ever felt, like if he was in the safest place he could ever be, even though there was a raging fire beside him.

The warm water relaxed his muscles, as Kuroo tried to wake his mind from that dream. His backup probably got him there, and he just had to wait for the doctor to come. 

The bathroom door opened suddenly, and Kuroo to almost jump out of the tub. 

The first thing he noticed under the white artificial bathroom light was the boy’s stoic but out of this world semblance. His eyes captivated Kuroo, they were so bright. Bright like the sun of his grandfather's farm in the summer, yet they revealed no emotion. He also had thin rosy lips, carved and well formed like the statues he saw earlier that day in the museums. Rosy peeked cheekbones, looking soft like clouds and a delicate nose, one that held beauty in itself.

Kuroo then noticed that he was wearing an unusual white robe and was levitating from the floor, with a pair of black feathered wings in his back that moved helping him hover above the ground ever so gracefully. 

Trying to move forward and sit on the bathtub, Kuroo felt stinging pain in all of his body. Suddenly realising.

Realising that, he wasn't having a dream at all.

"Who the fuck are you?" Kuroo demanded, furrowed eyebrows revealing his confusion, trying once again to get out of the bathtub. 

The boy was now beside him, with something that appeared to be an apple in his hands. He laid a delicate hand against Kuroo’s bare shoulder and pushed against it gently. 

Kuroo was scared shitless.  _ What the fuck was happening? _ He tried to sit up once more, but he was once again gently kept in place. 

"Tetsuro, please stop. I'm not going to hurt you." The boy said, his voice also devoid of emotion. Even so, his hand was gentle against the raw bruises on his shoulder. 

Not understanding a bunch of what was happening, Kuroo tried to remain calm in spite of himself. If something bad should happen, he knew he couldn't help it. Also, he doesn't know how, but seeing the beautiful boy beside him calmed him. He found himself once more looking at his face, slowly falling down into his gaze. Gaze that didn't waver.

The boy held up his hand to Kuroo’s face and put the green apple against his lips. Kuroo questioningly opened his mouth a little bit and took a bite out of it. 

As he chewed he thinks,  _ how this cute boy was in his bathroom? _ , fucking levitating his way in. And how did he know his name? _ What was even was the boy's name? _

"Thank you." The boy said softly, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub before taking a hold of the shampoo. “And my name is Kenma."

_ Well, that was strange. _

"Can you read my fucking mind?" Kuroo asked while Kenma moved behind him with the shampoo in hand, squirting it into his rebel dark hair and beginning to massage it into his scalp. Kuroo was too busy trying to process everything that was happening around him to be weirded out. 

"Yes, I can."

"That's weird." 

"It is."

Kuroo was still trying to understand.  _ Was he sure he wasn’t dreaming? _ Everything was too real, at least the soreness in his body was. But Kuroo was a smart prick, and he rightfully deduced that Kenma was the form he saw before collapsing, who had probably saved him and taken care of his wounds. 

And who was taking care of him right now. 

Earlier that day, Kuroo was in a museum trying to kill time, looking at expensive paintings and statues. Kenma looked like those too pretty people that Kuroo saw in paintings, but he doesn't know why he feels it's different with Kenma. He seemed especial. 

"So… can you really read my mind?" Kuroo asked slowly.

"Yes."

" _ What are you? What's with those wings? Are you really flying? _ " His thoughts were a little scrambled, with too much freedom of thinking. 

Kenma grabbed a cup from the bathroom counter and filled it with water, pouring it over Kuroo’s hair to rinse it. "I'm your Guardian Angel, Tetsuro. It's simple. I've been protecting you and watching you grow since the moment you were born.”

_ That explained a lot. _

"Oh--do I even deserve that?"

Getting up and letting the water drain from the tub, Kenma said in a low voice “Yes, you do", passing a white towel to Kuroo's naked form.

Kuroo shrugged and grabbed the offered towel to dry himself off. “Okay, then. I guess I should start going to church from time to time.”

The next morning Kuroo woke up to a knock on the hotel room’s door, and upon surveying the room, he found no trace of the beautiful boy from the night before. And the knock was just from the designated doctor that his boss had sent for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is [ my tumblr ](https://dirtypawshistorie.tumblr.com/)  
> Here is [ coocoocatchoo tumblr ](https://coocoocatchoo.tumblr.com/) and their  writing tumblr   
> Come by and say hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you liked it!


	2. |Budapest, Hungary. March 22th, 1984.

Long time after at, Kuroo just presumed he was probably delirious from the drugs remembering the events from that night and kept the memory as a really nice dream.

He saw him again months later, while he was drowning in a river on the outskirts of Budapest. Kuroo clearly saw the blurry image of massive black wings that surrounded his body to then swim against the turmoil of the current and into the open air.

Kuroo couldn't forget the searing touch against his cheek when Kenma grabbed his face to touch foreheads under water--it was impossible to dream something so vivid. 

After waking up in an empty catholic school infirmary, sustaining only scratches and bruises, no sign of the punch in the eye he received while fighting security, he saw Kenma appear from the balcony with some paper bags in hand.

He didn’t know why he felt so happy, or why his skin tingled with excitement, or why a smug smile pushed its way onto his face, but Kuroo's chest opened up like it was the first time he learned how to breath again. 

"You again?" Kuroo said, sitting up in his bed, trying to ignore the chill air that came through the open window against his naked chest.

Kenma's stoic face as he remembered, tossed him a banana and sat cross legged in the bed beside him. "You keep being reckless, it's annoying." His tone was condescending, making Kuroo ask himself if Kenma could even simulate having feelings. 

He didn't say anything, so Kuroo supposed he didn't want to talk about such a thing.

Kuroo peeled the banana, munching it's sweet flavor with a thoughtful frown as he looked at his bandaged arms and scratched hands, remembering the narrow escape he had had. 

"You cured my black eye?"

"Yes, I did."

"Wow, you really are an angel. Thank you." Kuroo said smugly grinning. 

With only Kuroo's rhythmic breathing hanging in the air between them, Kenma knew wha Kuroo was thinking. On how his luck kept getting worse with his job, the bad alliances, and how barely he makes it out alive in some cases, so he wasn't surprised when Kuroo said.

“'I think by now God hates me.” 

It was the first time Kuroo saw the boy’s face express any expression. He found it funny to see the annoyance in Kenma's bright eyes. 

"He doesn't hate you, or anyone." Kenma said. " _ But they do want to prevent me from saving you _ ." but also thought.

"Well," Kuroo put aside the empty banana peel, "it just seems so. With all these plans at work going badly, he really has it against me." 

Kenma stood up and sat beside him on Kuroo’s bed. Weirdly enough, Kuroo didn't feel any fear. He was curious to know what the boy was thinking. Saving him now on two occasions, it was strange by most. Not many people go around saying that they've seen their guardian angel.

But Kuroo would never share his encounter with Kenma with anyone. Kuroo wanted the memory and the boy all to himself. 

A warm hand moved to rest against Kuroo’s chest, making his skin tingle. Kenma let it rest there for a while, feeling Kuroo's beating heart against his fingers, never taking his eyes off of him. 

Feeling brave, Kuroo also moved his hand, wanting to touch the soft dark strands that adorned Kenma's face.

Kenma avoided Kuroo’s touch, moving away gracefully. He began to move his hand up and down Kuroo’s chest, trying to comfort him, but Kuroo didn't know why he was trying to be comforted. 

"I'm okay." Kuroo said, his smirk never wavering. But his eyes showed honesty and softness, emotions that Kenma had seen ever since Kuroo was a little lonely boy in the streets of Tokyo. 

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is [ my tumblr ](https://dirtypawshistorie.tumblr.com/)  
> Here is [ coocoocatchoo tumblr ](https://coocoocatchoo.tumblr.com/) and their  writing tumblr   
> Come by and say hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you liked it!


	3. |Sicilia, Italy. February 3rd, 1989

It had been five years since their first encounter, and Kuroo was twenty three. His luck was as bad as it usually was, and Kenma has been with him quite a bit. Nowadays, he doesn't leave until Kuroo is fully recovered. And Kuroo understood that he really, truly enjoyed the angel’s presence. He reads a lot, which is weird because he's pretty sure angels couldn't be bothered with things like that, but Kenma liked to read children's books. Mostly fantasy. 

Kuroo knew that Kenma could hear him thinking about how beautiful he looked, from the way his brow furrowed everytime he thought about him, to the way his ears and nose would flush whenever he spoke to him, and especially the gold hue to his eyes whenever he would lock eyes with him. But Kenma chose to ignore it. And Kuroo found that teasing Kenma was too fun to not do, to look at how annoyed but bashful Kenma got everytime Kuroo thought how pretty the angel was. 

"Kenma." Kuroo lilted while Kenma poured himself some tea from the motel's coffee machine.

"Hm?" Kenma hummed while sipping his tea.

"I'm dying, please come."

Kenma closed his eyes and Kuroo’s grin grew wider as he saw the increasing irritation on Kenma’s countenance. "You're not dying." 

"How can you be so sure? I'm dying out of sadness." Kuroo responded while dramatically putting a hand over his head. 

"You are  _ not  _ dying.” 

Kuroo chuckled at the angry tone. "Okay, okay… but still, will you come over here please?"

Putting the empty paper cup on the desk, Kenma obliged.

_ Well, that was unexpected. _

Kenma barely lets Kuroo touch him, but it seems that is about to change. 

Feeling excitement filling his chest, heat pooling in his stomach, and warmness wash over his face, Kuroo sat on the bed, with bandages around his torso and extremities, and patted the free space next to him. 

Kenma levitated his way over, eyes trained on Kuroo. Kuroo's hair was more tousled than usual, he had a few scratches on his arms and his chest was littered with bruises from the punches he received that night in Sicilia. Even so, he had that stupid smug smile on his face, like if everything was the way he planned, like if anything could break him. Fully knowing that he hated his life, he hated his job, and he just wanted to throw himself off a cliff. 

Kenma was no one to save him, he wasn't anyone's savior even in his celestial form. But he just couldn't let Kuroo give himself up, not when he saw that little crying kid pray to the celestials to let himself enjoy life, to enjoy the day and enjoy love. Even when his mother was dropped on the floor of a cheap brothel in Roma. 

No, Kenma wasn't the savior of anyone. But when Kuroo sees him every time he's almost dead, so relieved to be able to live once again, Kenma feels something close to what humans called pain in his chest, not wanting to let go of him. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Kuroo saw how Kenma slowly let himself at his side, closing his wings with care to not instigate pain by touching Kuroo's wounds. 

Slowly, again to let Kenma move away if he wanted, Kuroo got closer. Feeling so intimate, Kuroo let his arms calmly surround Kenma's waist, and Kenma put his hands on Kuroo's shoulders. Gold eyes meeting coal eyes, both pulled themselves together to be embraced by the other.

Kenma keeps his head hidden between Kuroo's shoulders, but Kuroo could only guess that he's struggling to tame his blush. 

A thought crossed Kuroo’s mind, and felt Kenma shift but not get away. With patience and care, Kuroo runs his fingers along Kenma's black feathers, making Kenma twitch. 

_ So he is sensitive.  _

He passes his fingers through them, touching them one by one. Kruoo tried to remember if he had ever felt anything this soft before, but nothing in this world could compare to Kenma.

Kuroo then noticed that one of the feathers detached easily, too easily. He couldn’t not pluck it gently, separating it from the others.

"Is this normal?" He frowned and pulled away a little to look at the angel with the feather between his fingers.

Kenma was looking directly at him, the blush had gone and was replaced by that familiar stoic emotionless face again. 

"...Yes"

Kuroo grabbed him gently by his shoulders.

"Don't lie."

The moment of silence felt infinite while the crickets sang outside in the night.

"No, it isn't normal."

"Are you okay, Kenma?"

"Yes, I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is [ my tumblr ](https://dirtypawshistorie.tumblr.com/)  
> Here is [ coocoocatchoo tumblr ](https://coocoocatchoo.tumblr.com/) and their  writing tumblr   
> Come by and say hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you liked it!


	4. |Lyon, France. May 14th, 1992

Sometimes, when Kuroo stared death straight in the face, he wasn't afraid. Not to be misunderstood, he loved being alive--looking at the clear sky, eating a good meal, reading a good book--Kuroo had a certain appreciation for life. Some days he made friends along his journey, but he never maintained stable friendships because of the danger his friends could encounter by being too close to him. He keeps them close but far enough to keep them safe--where they should be; Bokuto, Akaashi, Yaku, Tsukishima, Kai, Hinata...he could keep naming more and more of those he cared about. He was good at making friends, even when he had met most of them just for one night. Bokuto, Akaashi, Yaku and Kai were the only ones he kept some touch with, messaging them when he found himself in Japan for a short vacation so that they could hang out for dinner and possibly get into some trouble.

Even when he didn’t always have much company, he found comfort in being alone since he knew Kenma was always by his side. Kuroo could feel Kenma everyday--when he opens the curtains and feels the sun on his skin, when he goes to sleep, when he's in a dangerous meeting, or starts to set up for a job. Kuroo knew Kenma was watching over him, making sure he was staying safe. 

He wasn't afraid of death, and he accepted that if the time comes, it'll come. Luckily, Kenma had saved him too many times in his life to count. 

But when he learned that Kenma had been saving him against God's orders, making Kenma ill in exchange of his life, Kuroo tried to fling himself out of a window. 

"Let me die." Kuroo’s voice sounded angry, too angry. He was restless, cold wind hitting his chest from the open window. His foot was already outside, but Kenma had a strong hold on him. 

Pulling Kuroo off the window’s edge, carrying him through the room, and dropping him ungracefully on the hotel bed, he closed the window and curtains. Kuroo could only look those black wings losing feathers every five or ten seconds. 

"No." Kenma responded with angry resilience in his voice, something Kuroo had never heard before.

Kuroo felt himself heaving--he wanted to shout, to pull his hair, but most of all, he wanted Kenma to look at him.

Feeling strain from the weight of the world against his shoulders, Kuroo gave in to the stinging at the corners of his eyes and letting the wetness run down his cheek, and clenching the sheets with his fist.

"Do it." Kuroo whispered, keeping the sob from coming out. 

"Don't dare." Kenma responded, finally facing Kuroo and flying slowly to him. 

Kuroo saw the tightness in Kenma’s jaw and the sadness that shadowed his face. Kenma isn't supposed to suffer, he didn’t deserve to feel bad at all. 

"You can't suffer because of me, Kenma. Don't be fucking stupid." 

Kenma sat beside him, grabbing Kuroo's trembling hand and unclenching his fingers, threading his own palm against his. With pain in Kenma’s voice and eyes locked onto his, Kuroo felt so vulnerable and transparent.

"I'm not fucking stupid, you are. If you think I'll let anyone hurt you, you're wrong." 

There was once again a silence that hung between them, and Kuroo began to breathe normally again and calm his nerves. He clutched Kenma's hand with both of his own.

"Why?" Kuroo asked, running his thumb over Kenma's knuckles.

Kenma didn't want to respond, he was focused on Kuroo's hand caressing his own, feeling his rough skin somehow made him feel like everything would be fine.

But nothing was near to being fine for Kuroo.

"Why?! Why do you care so much?!" Kuroo’s voice was growing louder out of anger and desperation. Kenma flinched.

Kuroo never shouted, he never lost his cool. He was calm, analytic, and the cool genius of the bunch. But knowing that Kenma was suffering because of him, he couldn't remain calm. His life had no value, no meaning. 

And Kenma kept silent, just watching Kuroo's hand entangled with his own.

Now that everything had gone to shit, Kuroo grabbed Kenma by the shoulders and without thinking twice, he kissed him. 

Really, nothing on this earth could compare to Kenma. His lips were soft and exquisite. Kuroo’s hands sled down his arms to his waist and felt the dips in his body. The touches were making Kenma’s skin crawl, and he wanted to beg for more. He felt Kenma's wings tremble and his spine shiver against his touch. 

Kuroo could taste his own tears and the sudden relaxation that Kenma gave in.

Kuroo licks Kenma’s bottom lip for permission to slip his tongue into Kenma’s mouth, to which Kenma granted immediately. Kenma rejoiced silently when Kuroo's tongue danced against his, battling and tasting each other with fervent desire. 

He moved his hands against Kuroo's strong chest, feeling the warm skin, the sinewy muscles in his arms and the slenderness of Kuroo’s neck under his finger pads, ending up tangling his fingers in Kuroo’s ridiculous dark locks, deepening the kiss.

When Kuroo realised he still needed air if he wanted to keep kissing Kenma, he moved away slightly, just enough to touch foreheads with him, tears still streaming down Kuroo's face.

"He wants me dead, Kenma. You don't have to do this. You can't just quit your life for me." His whisper was barely audible.

Kenma touched his face with the same care he always had, loving and caring, making Kuroo feel like he existed just to be touched by him.

"That's not something for you to decide. Now, go to sleep."

Kuroo slept while holding Kenma that night, a sea of black feathers flooding his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is [ my tumblr ](https://dirtypawshistorie.tumblr.com/)  
> Here is [ coocoocatchoo tumblr ](https://coocoocatchoo.tumblr.com/) and their  writing tumblr   
> Come by and say hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you liked it!


	5. |Rome, Italy. June 5th, 1992

Kuroo had quit his job.

Now, he works as a butcher. Maybe if he kept himself out of harm's way, Kenma could remain in the celestial sky, and avoid the strain of becoming physical again. The thought of never touching Kenma again made his body tight and demand for Kenma to be there, but Kuroo couldn't resonate with the idea of Kenma withering away. Kenma is supposed to be celestial, not mortal. If he keeps saving Kuroo from his destiny, he will soon be put in danger from the strain on his celestial being.

Kuroo’s new job provided just enough salary for Kuroo to scrape by. It could be better, and his apartment was deplorable at best, but he still thinks of Kenma, of his skin, of his hair, of his face, of his voice. It made the days that passed without seeing him slightly easier. 

Kissing an angel really was something else. 

He was too focused on reading his grocery list to notice the car that had run the red light and barrelled onto the sidewalk. 

The next thing he knows, he is in his bed at his apartment, sustaining multiple broken bones and withstanding agonizing pain. Looking at the ceiling, he sees a small black feather and suddenly realises what had happened.

Kenma was in bed with him, drenched in sweat at his side. His breathing was erratic and his eyes were closed, but when Kuroo looked to him, he opened them immediately. 

A small little smile adorned his face and Kuroo felt his heart getting smaller.

"Hi." Kenma airily laughed.

"Kenma, you..."

"I said," Kenma responded while trying to rest his weight on one arm to look at Kuroo from above, "I'm not going to let you die just because He wants it."

His wings are smaller and almost bare. Kuroo felt the sting of pain again in his eyes and nose, and the next thing he knows, his sight is blurry and his sobs choked him. Maybe Kuroo would never see him again, maybe Kenma would go back up and never come back down again, maybe he's too close to the end. But Kuroo knew, everything was his fault.

Kenma suddenly grabs his face, taking away his hands from his eyes. He looks at Kuroo straight in the eyes and says. 

"None of this is your fault, this is my own decision. Not yours."

Looking at him, letting his eyes drink in the sight of Kenma as he thinks of how much he will miss him. Kuroo continues to regret not loving him from the start.

"I'm not going anywhere. He doesn't want me up there anymore."

Surprised, he felt bad because Kenma is seemingly not celestial anymore. 

The good thing is that he'll get to keep Kenma.

Yes, he is selfish like that. But Kenma reassured him by kissing him gently, no questions asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is [ my tumblr ](https://dirtypawshistorie.tumblr.com/)  
> Here is [ coocoocatchoo tumblr ](https://coocoocatchoo.tumblr.com/) and their  writing tumblr   
> Come by and say hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you liked it!


	6. |Rome, Italy. June 5th, 1992

**_|Rome, Italy. June 5th, 1992_ **

Kuroo had quit his job.

Now, he works as a butcher. Maybe if he kept himself out of harm's way, Kenma could remain in the celestial sky, and avoid the strain of becoming physical again. The thought of never touching Kenma again made his body tight and demand for Kenma to be there, but Kuroo couldn't resonate with the idea of Kenma withering away. Kenma is supposed to be celestial, not mortal. If he keeps saving Kuroo from his destiny, he will soon be put in danger from the strain on his celestial being.

Kuroo’s new job provided just enough salary for Kuroo to scrape by. It could be better, and his apartment was deplorable at best, but he still thinks of Kenma, of his skin, of his hair, of his face, of his voice. It made the days that passed without seeing him slightly easier. 

Kissing an angel really was something else. 

He was too focused on reading his grocery list to notice the car that had run the red light and barrelled onto the sidewalk. 

The next thing he knows, he is in his bed at his apartment, sustaining multiple broken bones and withstanding agonizing pain. Looking at the ceiling, he sees a small black feather and suddenly realises what had happened.

Kenma was in bed with him, drenched in sweat at his side. His breathing was erratic and his eyes were closed, but when Kuroo looked to him, he opened them immediately. 

A small little smile adorned his face and Kuroo felt his heart getting smaller.

"Hi." Kenma airily laughed.

"Kenma, you..."

"I said," Kenma responded while trying to rest his weight on one arm to look at Kuroo from above, "I'm not going to let you die just because He wants it."

His wings are smaller and almost bare. Kuroo felt the sting of pain again in his eyes and nose, and the next thing he knows, his sight is blurry and his sobs choked him. Maybe Kuroo would never see him again, maybe Kenma would go back up and never come back down again, maybe he's too close to the end. But Kuroo knew, everything was his fault.

Kenma suddenly grabs his face, taking away his hands from his eyes. He looks at Kuroo straight in the eyes and says. 

"None of this is your fault, this is my own decision. Not yours."

Looking at him, letting his eyes drink in the sight of Kenma as he thinks of how much he will miss him. Kuroo continues to regret not loving him from the start.

"I'm not going anywhere. He doesn't want me up there anymore."

Surprised, he felt bad because Kenma is seemingly not celestial anymore. 

The good thing is that he'll get to keep Kenma.

Yes, he is selfish like that. But Kenma reassured him by kissing him gently, no questions asked.


	7. |Rome, Italy. June 12th, 1992.

Kenma slowly loses his powers, and by the first week he can't read Kuroo's thoughts anymore. He says it's inconvenient, but he appreciates the silence. He can still barely fly, and his healing lags little by little as he clears the rest of Kuroo’s injuries.

But Kenma's fever worsens by the day.

And one night, while Kuroo was resting against Kenma's chest, and letting Kenma braid his hair, he asks hesitantly. "Can angels take medicine?"

"No, they can't." 

"How are you going to get better?"

"I'm not."

Kuroo wants to lose it, but he doesn't have the energy anymore. A wry smile appears on his face and he holds Kenma's slender chest tighter to his own. 

"I'm losing my strength by the day." Kenma continues while moving his hand down Kuroo's back "Until he gives me my punishment. A beating heart that stops the moment it's alive."

Kuroo is crying, ugly crying. But he still feels safe when Kenma grabs his face, brushes his tears away, and kisses him softly. 


	8. Some Dates and Black Feathers Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading until this point! I really liked how this fic turned out, and mostly is thanks to coocoocatchoo for their incredible help.  
> Also, WARNING: Graphic self-harm and suicidal thoughts on this chap. Proceed with precaution.  
> Hope you like it!

**_|Rome, Italy. July 19th, 1992. 12:00 am._ **

"Does it hurt?" Kuroo asked, referring to the falling feathers, while he caressed his wings. Both in bed, naked. 

Kenma said that it felt nice when Kuroo touched the naked spots, but sometimes when too many feathers dropped at once, Kuroo could see pain in Kenma's eyes.

"No." Kenma responded, voice muffled against Kuroo's chest. 

Kuroo knew it did hurt.

"I'm sorry." Kuroo held him and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"Don't be, it's not your fault."

"Well, you were made mortal 'cause of my reckless lifestyle."

Kenma's back was soft under his shedding wings. 

Kuroo's arms were the safest spot Kenma had ever felt. 

"You are mine to protect, it does not matter how your lifestyle is or was." 

Kuroo let out a snort. "I'm pretty sure it does matter."

"Well, not for me." 

"Sadly."

Kenma felt annoyance brewing in his skin. 

"What's with you?" Kenma holds Kuroo's hands, wings hurting and body aching even more.

"I don't think you deserve this because of me, I'm the assassin, the evil one, according to your boss."

Kuroo's voice sounded sad, like the loneliness Kenma felt when he was once in the sky. Not like him at all.

"And I already told you, you are not bad. You're just, misunderstood…it wasn't easy for you. You didn't have a choice."

"Yeah, but it doesn't make murder any less of a sin."

Kenma lets out a huff and tries to turn his back to Kuroo, ignoring the tint of pain. But Kuroo holds him close, not letting Kenma go. Kenma doesn't fight it, offering Kuroo a small smile. Kuroo always beamed out of happiness when he did that, smirking like a bad kitty cat committing mischief.

Resting his head again against Kuroo's chest, he heard his heartbeat, and Kuroo kept caressing the falling black feathers. A small amount of blood dripped from them, making Kuroo's chest tighten into a thousand knots, feeling his skin burn every time he touched the red liquid.

"Didn't know angels could bleed."

"It's part of the process."

"I see."

Kenma grabs Kuroo's hand that was rested on his shoulder and guides it against his breathing chest, Kuroo liked the heat he emitted, but then realised, there was no beating.

"Once it starts, it stops." Kenma whispered, his breath sliding across Kuroo's skin "God says that we who fallen live as humans through the centuries."

"Does it hurt?"

"I think it hurts like a normal heart attack would."

"I didn't deserve to live."

"Well, too bad you think that. What's done it's done."

Kuroo felt tears stream down his cheek, they felt so hot. Or maybe he was too cold.

Kenma softly grabbed his chin and with his thumb he brushed his tears from his cheeks.

"I don't like seeing you cry."

"Too bad, what's done it's done."

Kenma didn't have a heart, but still he could feel the weight in his chest. This was his protected, the one he had protect above all things. Now that he'll be gone, who would look out for Kuroo in the sky? Who would Kuroo look for in the sky? Everything felt so heavy, and Kenma didn't noticed he was sniffling and sobbing until he realised he couldn't breathe.

Kuroo just grabbed him tighter by his waist, being careful of the falling feathers, tugging him into his chest and kissing him sweetly. Kenma didn't remember ever feeling this way, full and light but still so heavy and hurt. Kenma kissed away his sobs and calmly stroked his black, silky locks.

They stayed like that for what felt like eternity. Sometimes the sobbing getting the best of Kuroo, and Kenma took his time fumbling his hands to calm him. Or when it got the worst of him, Kuroo took his time whispering ethereal words to his ear, making everything around him calm for an instant.

Just to hear the low vibrato tone of his protectee’s voice, making Kenma sink into the sheets. Telling him that Kuroo would follow him wherever Kenma went.

**_|Rome, Italy. August 10th, 1992._ **

Kuroo felt the delicate beat against his fingertips in Kenma's thin chest, which disappeared as soon as it began.

Now with his wingless form between his arms, Kuroo raised his teary eyes to the sly, devilish grin smeared across his determined face, whispering with full hatred to the white blank apartment roof.

"I'll go wherever he goes. Whether you accept it or not, I don't give a damn."

Kuroo proceeded to carry Kenma to the bathroom, dipping them both down in the warm water filled bathtub, Kenma’s lifeless body still warm against him. Kuroo hugged him like his life depended on it. It basically did.

He then grabbed his razor on the counter, and crossed deep in his own skin.


	9. |Tokyo, Japan. April 26th, 2020.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is [ my tumblr ](https://dirtypawshistorie.tumblr.com/)  
> Here is [ coocoocatchoo tumblr ](https://coocoocatchoo.tumblr.com/) and their  writing tumblr   
> and here is the final chap!

Kuroo woke up with rain furiously pouring and hitting the window from the outside, lightning illuminating his trembling hands, and his sweaty body covered by his blue sheets. He looked around his bedroom and looked for  _ him _ . 

He just had to see him. 

He wasn't where he was supposed to be, at his side in the bed, playing video games in the middle of the night or curled up against him like a kitten.

The door opened and Kuroo saw Kenma entering the bedroom dressed in red pajamas, a mug in form of a cat filled of tea in one hand and his Nintendo switch in the other. Kuroo could feel the pain in his chest fade. Not remembering why he had been so scared in the first place.

When Kenma hunched over, placed his mug on the nightstand, and dipped his cold feet in the sheets too, Kuroo grabbed him by the waist and pulled him into his chest. Kuroo couldn’t help but feel clingy. 

Kema sighed and tried to free himself so he could sit against the wall and play more comfortably. But Kuroo wouldn't budge.

"Kuro, stop it." 

"Hmm, you're so comfy." 

"Ugh." Kenma grunted under his breath. 

But he let himself be pampered by his boyfriend, nonetheless, feeling the coziness crawl it's way up his cheeks and relenting to snuggle into Kuroo's side. 

Kuroo caressed Kenma's golden locks, the smell of their shared shampoo calming his breathing. With Kenma against his chest, Kuroo felt safe and calm, and finally began to drift back to sleep. 

Before so, Kuroo whispered against Kenma's ear how much he loved him, like he did every night, while tightening his hold on his waist. Making Kenma feel calm and safe, reassuring him that he'll never let him go and that they'll be together until the ending days come. He wondered what had made Kuroo so clingy all of a sudden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know. So cheezy, all was a dream. But sad endings break my soul and really, they deserve better.  
> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated :)


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